Attack of the Crack
by Crowmunculus
Summary: Just what the title says. Includes the complete and utter destruction of the fourth wall, The Fenton Ghost Eviscerator, an accidental self insert, and random interruptions by the author for no particular reason. Rated for language and just plain stupidity


**Have you ever had that one horrible writer's block that refuses to go away? If so, I can sympathize with you, I have one currently stalking me at the moment. The stupid thing sits in my way, stopping me from getting any further than the first sentence of my first real multi-chaptered fic type thing. So, in my frustration, I typed this out and as soon as it was done, I looked it over, reread it a few times, and finally said, **

"**What the HELL was I smoking when I typed up this crap?"**

**So now you have this monstrosity to enjoy. Or be afraid of, your choice.**

**I seriously don't know what came over me, my final conclusion is that I should stay away from caffeine.**

**If you read this, please review, I beg of you! We all know that reviews give inspiration, which I desperately need. So love it, or hate it, tell me what you think, but don't give me any constructive criticism, it's crack people, it's not supposed to be good. Flames welcomed, they make me giggle.**

**Disclaimer: I seriously doubt that the owners of Danny Phantom would ever write something this awful, even on their worst days.**

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It was like any other day in the life of Danny Fenton and friends. Birds were singing, the sun was shining, happy little squirrels were frolicking around in the park, and death rays were flying ever which way, effectively disemboweling anything unfortunate enough to get caught in their paths. 

Uh-huh. Completely normal.

Okay, so maybe most people wouldn't consider death rays normal. Such people would, of course, not be Danny, as he spent most of his free time, and some of his not so free time, dodging death rays and fighting creatures that aren't even supposed to exist. That's because Danny is a ghost. Only the good kind, not the kind that goes around attacking people and doing other bad things, those are the type of ghosts he fights, as he's a superhero. Deal with it.

So as I was saying, green death rays were being shot from an overly large silvery gun, streaking through the air and hitting the unfortunate bird or butterfly, none of which were the target. The target was a much bigger prize, the infamous ghost boy, Danny Phantom.

Said target was looking rather flustered, but none too concerned; the antagonist was his father, whose aim, or lack thereof, was nothing to worry about. Of course, that didn't make it any better, I mean it was his dad shooting at him! If that doesn't cause mental scarring, nothing will. Seriously, your own father shooting killer rays of doom towards you with the intent to kill-err, re-kill? Jazz would obviously have a field day with the subject (if she hasn't already), she's probably writing her thesis as this is being typed.

Danny sped through the air, trying to find a nice, safe place to change back into his human side. Then he wouldn't have to deal with his dad firing death rays at him with his newest weapon he had so proudly named "The Fenton Ghost-Eviscerator". Hopefully.

But of course, there aren't that many nice, safe places where you can hide when you're being chased by the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle, which shall henceforth be called the GAV so I don't injure my poor innocent interphalangeal joints, intrinsic muscles, and articular cartilage any further. And, there are even fewer safe places when Jack Fenton was the one driving the obnoxiously named vehicle, no conveniently placed alleyway was safe from its destructive power when in his control- the stupidly-named RV would simply smash through the surrounding buildings, effectively widening the alleyways to fit it's girth, in the driver's quest for 'Inviso-Bill'.

Up in the sky, the silvery haired teen (And at this description, the author will take a break, while talking in the third person for her own amusement, to assess the often incorrectly stated color of said ghost child's hair. It is obviously not white, it is silver, and yet somehow even the theme song got it wrong.) kept fleeing, rapidly growing more and more annoyed at the one-sided battle, if the orange-clad ghost hunter randomly shooting at him could be called a battle that is.

_Why is it I can't find a nice, conveniently placed alleyway like I always seem to find when my parents are chasing me?_

_And the Fenton Ghost-Eviscerator? That sure rolls right off the tongue. For once, I'm glad I'm a C student and have no clue what that word means, because I get the sneaking suspicion it means something really disgusting._

In his distraction, the unsung superhero didn't see the death ray shooting towards him, but thankfully it missed. Well, it didn't really miss, it just seemed to change direction in mid-air a few inches away from Danny for no visible reason. Almost as if by means of a random plot device, or the simple fact that the day Jack Fenton was able to aim straight was the day that hell would freeze over. And that's not until next week, so we don't need to worry about that just yet.

At this moment, all of the characters seemed to freeze for a moment, contemplating the bizarre event that had just happened. Except for Jack, who had practically screeched in disbelief,

"_WHAT? _The one time it shoulda hit dead-on, it somehow misses? What's up with that, I'm not THAT bad an aim! Right?"

Fortunately for our hero that I'm currently stalking to write this out, Jack got so absorbed in the topic of his aim that Danny was able to successfully fly out of harm's way.

Unfortunately, for me, his hiding spot was the alleyway I was currently hiding in as I typed out this little crackfic.

The familiar blue-white rings of light encased him, and traveled in opposite directions, revealing-oh hell, you guys know the rest, why am I even bothering to describe it?

Either way, Danny Fenton was left in his wake, looking very much relieved. A slight sound in the background caught his attention, it sounded vaguely like typing, except it was much too loud and violent to be described as such. It almost sounded like someone was attacking a keyboard, maybe using it for wrestling practice. Curiosity aroused, the teenager walked towards it, while being careful to keep quiet.

As he sneaked around the corner, a bright flash of lime green and a loud exclamation of

"Shit! He found me!" alerted him to the presence of a very bizarre looking ghost, a pint-sized teenage girl with a laptop lying on the ground next to her.

_Why didn't my ghost sense go off?_

Danny immediately shifted back into his ghost form, tensed and ready to fight.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? I didn't type that! Now change back, and get back into the story! You're murdering my plot bunny!" she shouted in a shrill, obnoxious voice, revealing tiny fangs.

Now Danny stood there in shock, wondering what the ghost was talking about. He'd never seen her before, and honestly she looked more ridiculous than malevolent. She was short, about a head shorter than him, with light blue skin and longish yellow-green hair. Her face was adorned with a multitude of dark blue freckles and a pair of overly large purple glasses (which contrasted horribly with her hair) that hid dark crimson eyes. But possibly most peculiar of all was her clothing, she was dressed in a black hooded sweater with a very familiar emblem on it. Was she a fangirl or something?

"Who _are _you?"

He said, now confused beyond measure. The ghost seemed to stand perfectly still for a moment, before smacking herself in the face with the palm of her hand.

"Aw shit, I just destroyed the fourth wall! Now go away, I don't exist. I am a figment of your warped little imagination. _You saw nothing."_

Said the bizarre ghost, using hand motions with the last utterance for added affect.

If Danny hadn't been confused before, he definitely was now. Currently, the look on his face was so damn adorably confused that I hired one of my lackeys to take a picture invisibly. That picture currently hangs above my computer, as my most prized possession. I'm willing to sell copies for five bucks each, Sam already bought about a thousand of them.

"Fine, since you're obviously not going away, here's your damn explanation. I mean, it's not like I can do any more damage, the fourth wall has already been demolished, there's nothing much worse than that. Except for inserting some horrible Mary-Sue halfa that will eventually tear apart the fabric of your world's existence by twisting and warping everyone's behavior into something so OOC it's not even funny, but I'm not quite _that _evil. Most of the time, at least, maybe in the mornings, I'm really not a morning person.

Okay, so here's the deal. You are a fictional character. I am a fanfiction author. I am manipulating your every movement with my writing powers of **DOOM** for my own amusement, and I'm going to wipe your memory by means of a random plot device after this so I don't destroy the DP world and get the whole of the fandom pissed at me. Any questions?"

It was then Danny decided that he was dreaming, and that he _really _should stop eating his mom's food so close before bedtime. Or, at all really, considering the way she cooked. So if it was a dream, what more harm could be done?

"Actually, yes. Could I see your laptop for a moment?"

The ghost stalled for a moment, taking his question into consideration, before nodding slowly and carefully. "Sure, but don't you dare break it. It's my uncle's and he'd murder me if anything happened to it. Well, I guess he couldn't really murder me, I'm already dead, but he could ban me from fanfiction for a while, which is actually what caused my death…Yeah, go ahead."

Danny reached out for the laptop, pulling it closer to him and opening up the Internet before looking up some website for defining the meaning of words. He typed in "Eviscerate", carefully and cautiously, as to not misspell it or harm the precious computer.

The result came up, and Danny stared disbelievingly at the graphic and disturbing meaning for a few minutes, horrified.

The author looked at the result, and turned to the boy before saying, "Is that an ew, or a yikes?"

**END!**

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**Well, I hope you all enjoyed this bizarre little fic, I can feel the beginnings of inspiration coming to me already. Thanks for reading, and please review! Because reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :D**


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